


common ground | arthur kirkland

by nihilisten



Series: my reader inserts [11]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Snapshots, Tsundere England (Hetalia)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 07:37:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19719151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilisten/pseuds/nihilisten
Summary: You and Arthur might have more in common than either of you would admit.[arthur kirkland/reader]





	common ground | arthur kirkland

When you got introduced to Arthur by your long-term friend Kiku, the first thing that you bonded over was your mutual love for tea.

“Oh, you like tea?” Arthur’s eyes shone with excitement under his bushy eyebrows. “Which one is your favourite? It’s Earl Grey, right? Or maybe Darjeeling?”

“Uh, actually… my favourite one is green tea…”

—Yeah, almost.

Arthur’s face dropped at your statement, as if he was disappointed that you preferred some Japanese pee over his own tea. You cocked your head to the side, then looked at Kiku, who was scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Um, l-let’s just move on… Please excuse us, Arthur-san.”

“Wha—?!”

Kiku pulled you away before the grumpy Brit could passive-aggresively announce the advantage British tea had over Japanese tea. What on Earth did he get himself into?

* * *

The second thing you bonded over was British music.

Alfred had invited all his friends to a party, but since the DJ didn’t really fit your tastes, you ended up sulking in a corner, sipping the same terrible beer for over an hour. Arthur, who’d already got a bit tipsy, took his courage and walked up to you, nonchalantly leaning over the table.

“Hello there,” he hummed, wide smirk on his face. “You’re not enjoying yourself, are you?”

“Not really,” you gestured at him to take a seat next to you.

“Well, only an idiot comparable to Alfred would have fun at this terrible party.”

You let out a half-hearted laugh, feeling sick from the beer. As much as you agreed, socialising wasn’t at the top of your list right now. However, too worn out to even try escaping, you just played along.

“Normally, I’d get out there and try to dance, but you know…” glancing around, you could see Alfred, Matthew and Francis actually partying, while the others simply talked or chugged down bottles of alcohol. “Not to this bad music.”

“Exactly!” Arthur exclaimed, so heated that he almost spilled the beer he was holding. “What music do you like?”

Your eyes glimmered. “British music.”

His eyes glimmered harder. “British music! Don’t you have a bloody good taste!”

“Right! I can’t decide what’s better – British rock or British electronica?”

“True, true,” suddenly Arthur got up and grabbed your wrist. “You know what? Let’s turn this wake into a proper party.”

Before you knew what was happening, the Brit had already dragged you halfway to the DJ’s stand. People were starting to stare, intrigued by the first commotion this evening.

“Move, you plebeian!” Arthur literally shoved the DJ to the side. “I’ll show you real music. What shall we play, Y/N?”

You smirked. “Let me get my list of favourite British bands!”

* * *

The tenth thing you bonded over was literature.

“Uhhh… I can’t, this is too difficult!”

You were currently losing your mind over a copy of Sherlock Holmes, desperately trying to break through complicated phrases in English. You loved reading no matter the language, you really did. But when facing something as serious as a piece of classic – and foreign – literature, you really were at your wit’s end.

Your frustration was so loud that Arthur must have heard your complaints.

“What’s wrong, poppet?” he asked, curiously glancing over your arm. “Are you reading _A Study in Scarlet_?”

“Mm,” you grumbled.

“Why the scowl then? I thought you liked Sherlock.”

“I do! But this bloody language is bollocks!” you exclaimed, unwillingly using the word that Arthur had taught you, which made him unwillingly smile. “It’s so bloody difficult! How can you be able to speak it on a daily basis? Bloody Brits and their ridiculous language! I’m knackered!”

Arthur wasn’t sure what amazed him more: your outburst or the fact that you just used more British slang in a single statement than he ever did. At this point he had to force his mouth shut, or else he’d burst out laughing.

“Oh, but poppet,” having swallowed the laughter, he managed to speak up. “How about I read it with you and try to explain what you don’t understand?”

In an instant, your boiling anger died down; it was gone like air escaping a punctured balloon. You blinked repeatedly.

“Really?”

“Of course, silly. But remember, I’m not doing this for you!” he warned in embarrassment, jerking the book away from your hands. “I just don’t want you to butcher my home’s literature.”

You rolled your eyes. As always, Arthur just _had_ to be his usual tsundere self.

* * *

The ???th thing was not carrying the umbrella during the heaviest rain.

The day of the world conference had been cloudy since the morning, but it only started pouring near the end. Most countries managed to sneak out before it became a real storm. You didn’t, mostly because you’d slept through the entire conference.

“—N! Y/N! Wake the hell up!”

“Don’t eat my biscuit!” you panicked, but it was no longer a dream. Arthur’s grimace in front of you made you realise something wasn’t quite okay. “What?”

“Get up and go home, the conference’s over.”

The Brit turned to the door, leaving you behind. When you saw there was no one else left in the conference room, panic overtook; you hurried up from your seat, then ran after Arthur. Maybe you shouldn’t have dozed off in the middle of the conference…

As you two reached the exit, the sight of the downpour hit you like a thunder. Arthur, his collar up, was ready to leave, until he noticed your awestruck attire.

“What are you waiting for? This rain isn’t likely to die down anytime soon.”

“Wait, you’re going back like this?? It’s such a heavy rain…” you uttered, pointing at his lack of rain protection.

“Gentlemen don’t use umbrellas, silly.”

“That sounds like a ridiculous excuse for getting a cold,” you furrowed your brows. There was no way you were letting him out in such a weather. “Let’s just wait.”

“I told you the rain isn’t about to—”

“Arthur.”

The Brit sighed, giving up.

Not even five minutes passed when suddenly footsteps echoed in the corridor. You were surprised to see Ludwig, who was apparently the last person to leave the conference.

“Huh? What are you two doing?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you and Arthur.

“Uhm… neither of us have an umbrella, so we’re just waiting,” you admitted in embarrassment.

“Eh, you guys,” Ludwig sighed. “Stop being reckless. You should be glad that I always carry a spare umbrella.”

You heart almost jumped out of your chest when the German guy handed you a classic black umbrella. Feeling on the verge of tears, you had to resist the urge to tackle him.

“T-thank you, Ludwig! I owe you my life!”

“Nevermind,” he waved his hand. “I still have some business to do here. You two just hurry and get back home before it gets worse. And be more responsible next time.”

“Sure!” as Ludwig left, you turned back to Arthur. “Look, we can leave now! Isn’t that great?”

“Leave by yourself, I’m not gonna use this,” Arthur crossed arms on his chest.

“I’m not asking, Arthur Kirkland. Come on.”

“Y/N?!”

You grabbed his forearm and pulled him towards the door. As soon as the umbrella was open you shoved Arthur outside, only to join him a second later, holding the item above your heads. He had no choice but to start walking next to you.

“You’re nuts,” he mumbled. “Give me the bloody umbrella. I’ll hold it.”

“Eh? But…”

“I’m not doing it for you, it’s just a gentlemanly thing.”

You kept quiet when Arthur’s hand brushed yours in the process. He was blushing, you were too, but neither of you would ever admit it.

“Hey, Arthur?”

“Mm?”

“Kiku once told me… They say at his place, that when two people share an umbrella, they’re supposed to fall for each other.”

“Wha… that’s bollocks,” Arthur looked away from you, his hand tightening around the handle of the umbrella.

“Yeah. Haha. Who came up with this? —It’s… too late anyway.”

Even through the rain you could hear Arthur hold his breath. His eyes widened ever so slightly, only to soften after a second – and then he let out a snort.

“Right. Silly.”


End file.
